Curse of the Nile
by Orcagirl2001
Summary: -In the time before time, when eagles soared against the desert winds and warriors fought beneath the blazing sun, a curse was set upon the land. Can a powerful Pharaoh defeat the darkness before his kingdom is destroyed? Please R&R!
1. Prologue

A/N:

Hey! This is my first Yu-Gi-Oh fan fic. It's based on the Ancient Egypt arc, only tweaked. I hope you like my work. Please Read and Review! Arigato!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

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**Prologue**

In the time before time, there lived a great and powerful pharaoh, who ruled with majesty unlike any before him. The youngest to ever rule in the long history of the royal family, he was crowned in his early youth and grew wiser with each passing year of his glorious reign. Throughout the land, the young pharaoh was loved by all and praised as the greatest king ever to live. Upholding honor and virtue, he wished for nothing more than the safety and happiness of his people. Daily he would venture out into the populous and address all he encountered, young and old, poor as well as wealthy. The land was fruitful and lush with the summer rains and the glistening diamond waters of the Nile. Herons lined the reedy pools, while the great leathery crocodiles rested in the sun. The mighty water hippos snoozed within the crystal waters as the fisherman's boats floated downstream, bringing in their nets filled with fish. The fields, white with new grain, swayed in the warm desert winds blowing from the north, and the people sang joyously at their peaceful life. Young women danced in the streets, twirling their scarlet linens and white silks, and playing harps, their voices sweet with song. Yes, all was well in the world of the ancients, so long as the good pharaoh ruled.

However, for one, all was not well. Deep in the heart of the deserts East of the pharaoh's territory, laid a cave beyond the white sand dunes, hidden within the mountain crags of the wasteland. Amid rocky crags and gorges, inhabited by scorpions and vultures and the golden desert vipers, was the Cavern of Thieves. Home to the wickedest and treacherous men, it bred mire and anger, black light seeping into its dark reaches. Horned lizards and bats clung to its limestone ridges, hovering near the amber torches that licked into the darkness, chasing away enough shadow to prevent the weary bandits from tripping on their sandals and falling down into the hidden fissures, chasms that lay dormant since the ancient land shift.

In this world, lived the Lord of Thieves, alone, for all of his brethren proved to be too weak to rob the world of its riches. All had died by the hands of soldiers, commanded by the will of the pharaoh to destroy anyone who dared to rob the land of peace. All had perished by their blades, their ravaged bodies scattered across the bloody sand, their soulless eyes white in the moon's radiance. He had found them all, thrown away like the refuse that they were, without honor, without pity. He had left them there, his cold heart darkly pleased with their deaths. He wished neither for revenge, nor did he weep over their demise. It was better that they were dead, that way there would be no obstacles.

Concealed within the shadows, he waited, alone and unafraid of what the future days were yet to bring. Plots formed within his head, deeds of sheer, vile wickedness, waiting to spring forth into existence through the lash of his whip, the silver of his blade, and the fire in his eye. Filled with pleasure at the thought of destruction, a sinister laugh erupted from his throat, his body soaring with utter euphoria at the conception of the most ingenious plan ever forged. Soon, he would have what he had sought for so long. Soon he would come forth into the light to take the ultimate treasure. Soon, he would hold the pharaoh's soul within his grasp.


	2. The Pharaoh's Holiday

A/N: 

Just to let you people know, this story contains some spoilers, but not too much since I don't know that much about the Egypt Arc myself. I only know names. Anyway, thanks for the reviews and I look forward to hearing your comments as the story continues.

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Chapter 1 – The Pharaoh's Holiday 

The mid-day sun blazed upon a golden landscape that spread abroad in a sea of sand dunes. Against the rippling horizon, stood the city of Thebes, its white limestone towers glowing brightly, the shadows of the date palms wafting in the hot desert wind. Red dust whirled across the hard camel road leading off toward the north, as the thunder of galloping steed echoed off the glistening waters of the Nile. Upon its surface, the mighty river reflected a golden chariot thundering down the rocky path, its wheels blurring into the red dust. A pair of wild and powerful stallions pulled the graceful chariot into the desert, one the hue of the blood-red Nile waters at sunset, the other its follower the nightshade, dark as the onyx stone.

Racing across the desert sands, the rushing steeds turned down through the crossways at the command of the charioteer. A young man of sixteen years, his face shined with youthful vigor as he lashed the reins, urging the beasts into a speedier gait. His eyes were the color of ruby stones flashing in the sunlight; his skin a burnished copper, adorned with armbands, neckband, bracelets, and rings of the purest gold. Upon his forehead lay in gold carvings was the Eye of Horus, a crown of authority and splendor, its wings set through his streaked bangs the shade of sunlight, and his dark locks black as the heavens at midnight. A long cape of fine linen dyed reddish-purple, billowed behind his regal form. His bare chest glistened with streams of sweat from the heat of the day, and around his neck rested a golden pendant in the shape of an inverted pyramid, emblazoned with the sacred Eye of Horus. A skirt of dark purple and gold draped across his loins and clung to his strong legs, his ankles cuffed with bands of gold.

The chariot raced onward until it reached the summit of a rocky crag. The young man pulled hard on the reins and the fleeting equines came to a halt. As the dust cleared, the wondrous land spread out before his eyes, a realm of gold and water that stretched on to the horizon. The Nile River became as a stream of the purest gold, a glimmering pathway vanishing into the dark mountains beyond. A great throng of brick buildings surrounded the immense aura of the palace, a striking realm of gold statues and temples of white limestone, bordered by a protective wall, with watchtowers and balconies. The Jewel of Egypt, many had called the city of Thebes, and indeed, it was a beautiful sight, so much so the youth could not help but sigh in awe at the magnificent land that was his. Stepping off the floor of the chariot, the young man came to stand beside the scarlet stallion, placing a hand upon its neck. Gazing off across the land from his place at the top of the rocky dune, he watched as the fishermen floated downriver in their boats, and the farmers as they plowed their fields for the next harvest. The year had brought forth a great plenty, the rains in the south had filled the Nile, flooding the land and reaping much fruitage. He caught the scent of the freshly cut wheat and barely stalks, and the ripe grain being placed into the storehouses. Everything was green and lush with water and life. How he wished he could just stand there forever and gaze in awe at his beautiful home.

****

"Oh, I don't understand him. This is the fifth time this week that he's run off," an aged man of short stature mumbled to himself as he searched the great rooms of the palace. Dressed in a white linen robe, deep blue sash and domed headdress, Shimon, Chief Advisor of the Pharaoh's Court, picked up the cover of a beautifully decorated clay pot and gazed inside. "Surely, he is around here somewhere."

"Shimon, you look most undignified with your head in that pot," laughed another voice from across the grand hallway. The advisor looked up to see a young priest, tall and adorned in white linens; his shoulders lined with gold plates springing upward like wings. His eyes were a deep hue of honey, and shined from behind a golden headdress, a covering of fine white silk framing his handsome face. His skin was a deep bronze, bejeweled with articles of gold, cuffed to his arms and wrists. Around his neck, a mysterious and beautiful ring of pure gold, glimmering in the sunlight, the sacred eye of Horus gazing off from within the boundaries of a smooth pyramid, its diameter lined with six points hanging down and lightly tinkling against each other, as the priest approached the advisor.

"Mahaado," the elder huffed, brushing back his gray bangs and replacing the lid of the vessel. "I would think you of all people would be searching for the young Pharaoh."

"Has he fled from your boring lectures, yet again?" the young priest smiled.

"Unfortunately, yes. He plans his own undoing by running off when it is time for his lessons. This time, however, he has eluded me greatly. I have searched every pot in the palace, and have found neither height nor hair of the young Lord."

"Perhaps it's slipped your mind that he's grown out of pots and on to better things." Mahaado stepped over to the great balcony overlooking the Nile and the white dunes beyond. Stretching his hand out, the young priest pointed over to a rocky outcrop just at the start of the camel roads, a wave of stones and sand cresting over the sparkling river waters. There the advisor spotted the shadow of a chariot, led by two great stallions, and the form of his young master gazing off into the distance.

Sighing in relief, Shimon chuckled, "So, he has taken up horses. That's too bad. I will have to make my lessons more interesting, else I'll have to run after a chariot instead of peering into pots."

Mahaado laughed and replied, "What's interesting is that from what I've observed, he never goes any farther than that point in which he stands. I think he views it as the best place to overlook his kingdom, even more so than the balconies of the palace. I have gone there with him once, and indeed it is a glorious sight."

"But, what's this?" gasped Shimon. "Why is he out there alone? The Pharaoh must have an escort!"

"The Pharaoh refused to have one. He said he wanted a bit of time to himself. If I were in his place, and in his time of youth, I too would grow tired of the constant attention from attendants and guards."

"Still, out in the dunes are bandits and thieves, who may do harm to our young Pharaoh."

Mahaado shook his head in disagreement. "I do not believe that is the case. There is no one that I have heard of who has any ill feeling against the Pharaoh. He is loved by all, young and old, and tries his best to keep peace in the land. There should be no reason for anyone to wish an ill fate upon him."

Shimon crossed his arms in a huff and muttered, "He still should have an escort."

"Oh, would you stop worrying you, old crocodile. Look, the Pharaoh is returning, safely. You'll have your student to yourself soon enough."

Shimon looked over the balcony and watched as the golden chariot raced through the palace gateway, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. The advisor shook his head in dismay and went to meet the adventurous young lord.

****

Atem was the name given to the young Pharaoh, for he was born in the hours of darkness, however, he was not at all dark in spirit. He shined brighter than the noonday sun, and brought joy into the land. On this day, though, the youth had created strife in the palace at his sudden disappearance and was due for a scolding from his advisor. Foreseeing this, Atem decided to avoid contact with his teacher and stole into the palace through a rear entrance. The immense rooms of alabaster stone and granite stretched on forever in a great sea of silver and white, glistening in the hot sun. He caressed the smooth stone pillars painted with blue and dark purple motifs, gazing at the statues of late kings erect in every corner and paintings lining the high walls. He recognized pictures of the history of the royal family, the ancient wars against the Syrians and the Ethiopians, and the minor everyday events recorded daily upon the ever-growing palace.

As he neared the flight of stairs that led to the Nile waterway, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps tapping against the marble floors. He halted his step and leaped behind a pillar, sucking a breath of air through his tightly clenched teeth. His ruby eyes scanned the room and widened sharply as he saw a stranger running down the halls. He was dressed in peasant clothes, and left trails of dust as he ran. The fringe of his skirt was tattered, his hair matted with sand and blood. Dark eyes wide with fright, the man raced off in a panic toward the courtyard.

Atem leaped out from his hiding place and in a loud voice cried, "You! Stop there!"

The fugitive slipped in mid-stride and tumbled down the stairway and into the garden below. The young Pharaoh jumped down after him, and came to find the man nearly unconscious at the base of a date palm. His breath was quick and irregular, as if he was been running for quite some time. His face was covered in blood that trickled from a gaping wound on his head, his body shaking with fear. Atem kneeled beside him and said softly, "Are you all right? What happened?"

The fugitive partly regained his senses and in an instant was bowing before the young Pharaoh and pleading, "Please! Please, my Lord, forgive me. Forgive me!"

Atem, worried that the injury might've made the man lose his sense of reason, asked, "What have you done for you to plead in this way? Come. Stand up. Let me get you to a Doctor."

The man looked up at him, wild with fear and said harshly, "No!" Blood flooded his mouth and he coughed violently. Falling to the ground, he writhed with agony at the throbbing pain from his wounds. Atem reached out and caught the man as he fell, holding him in his arms, glancing around helplessly for assistance. There was no one in the courtyard but had gone in search of him. The young Pharaoh now regretted his recklessness.

"My Pharaoh..." the man spoke after he had caught his breath. "Please...take this." Weakly, he reached into his tunic and brought out a scroll, laced with gold and sealed with the head of a vulture. His hands trembling, the stranger lifted it toward the Pharaoh, who took it solemnly.

"Forgive me..." the man gasped. With his last breath gone, his body fell limp, and his spirit left him.

Confused as to why this fate had befallen the stranger, Atem remained at his side, closing the dead man's eyes and laying him gently beneath the shade of the palm. Addressing the gift that was given him, the young Pharaoh wondered what it contained. Was it so dangerous that the messenger had to kill himself or what is the guards that had struck him?

The Pharaoh's questions were about to be answered as a battalion of troops flooded the courtyard, flanked by the priests and his advisor Shimon. A flurry of commotion erupted through the palace as they surrounded the bloody scene.

"My Lord Pharaoh," shouted Shimon from behind the thick bodies of the guards. He pushed through and came to the youth's side. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I am quite fine. This stranger, though, has been dealt a grave injustice."

"Oh my," gasped the advisor. "Look at the wound on his head. It appears that he was struck with a dagger!"

Atem flashed his eyes upward to the leader of the squadron and demanded, "Tell me, did any of the guards strike him?"

"No, my Lord," said one of the sentries, bowing respectfully as he approached. "Our orders were to capture this intruder, but not to harm him."

"Guards, show me your swords!" the Pharaoh ordered, anger glistening in his ruby eyes.

At once, they rose from their kneeled positions and drew their blades. Not one drop of blood stained any of the shining silvery weapons, but all were clean and bright in the sunlight.

Troubled, the Pharaoh turned away from the horrid scene and whispered to Shimon, "Have this mess cleaned up quietly. Do not let word of this incident spread to the ears of my subjects. After you are finished, I wish to speak with you privately in my chambers."

Shimon bowed gravely. "Yes, my Lord Pharaoh."

Solemnly, young Atem stepped up the white stairway, his cape billowing in the wind, and disappeared into the palace.


	3. The Sealed Scroll

A/N:

WHEW! Sorry to keep everyone waiting. My brain has been fried the past few weeks. No inspiration at all! Funny what a little pic of Chibi Pharaoh Yugi can do to boost your writing. Anyways, more will come soon. Please review!

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**Chapter 2 – The Sealed Scroll**

The Pharaoh's chambers glowed with a luxury of utmost wonder. Ivory white linens draped from the high ceilings, carvings of falcons, lions and crocodiles curled around the stone pillars supporting the great canopy. Beyond the far wall was a wide view of the great city that spanned the golden horizon, a kingdom glowing with a surreal radiance. The tops of the date palms stroked the edge of the marble floors, lined with the skins of leopards; lamp stands of gold flickered candlelight across the shaded room. Laced with white silk was a couch, held up by the backs of four lean jackals, collared with ruby stones. Cushions made from the coats of gazelles lined the tops of the stools, flanked by small tables of cedar wood lacquered with fine polished copper. The surrounding walls were covered in paintings, poems and tales of the pharaoh's rule, and pictographs of his mighty empire.

Such luxuries were passed on as mere trivialities, as the Pharaoh sat upon the couch, alone and very troubled. The mysterious scroll lay bound in his clenched fist, unmoved since the moment of its delivery. Filled with rage and confusion at the happenings hours ago, the Pharaoh grew restless as to why his advisor had not arrived. He wished to know what the scroll contained, but at the same time feared opening it. If such a thing had sent the strange man to his death, it could do the same thing to anyone else. Then again, the man had given it to him out of desperation, as if it were an important message, so much so that he was willing to give his life for the sake of its conveyance. If it was that serious, then perhaps it was necessary to read its contents. Perhaps it was word of an invasion, or a rebellion, or some other report of evil approaching.

The Pharoh's mind fought with this decision as he rose and paced across his chamber to the glorious view of the city. Gazing off into the distance, he thought of what would be best for his people. If there was a threat coming, it was important that he protect them at all cost. No matter what his fear, if there was an impending evil, he was obligated to be the first to know about it. Unable to bear the mystery any longer, Atem sat back down on his couch and pried of the seal. The golden vulture head hit the floor with a ping, as he drew the papyrus from its case and rolled out its length. His ruby eyes scanned the smoothly written hieroglyphics, widening as the words formed upon his lips.

"_When cometh a day of plenty_

_So cometh a time of destruction_

_The vulture's wings shall be crippled_

_Its nest swept away by desert winds_

_Life becomes death_

Death becomes reality 

_The Eye of Horus shall be blinded_

_And darkness shall rule over light"_

As the Pharaoh tried to decipher the meaning of the words, suddenly a guard burst through the large swinging doors of his room, rushed into the foyer and fell to his knees. Startled, Atem jumped to his feet and demanded, "Guard, what is the meaning of this intrusion?"

Trembling with lost breath and apology, the guard replied, "Forgive me, my Lord Pharaoh. I bring shocking news."

"What is it," growled the young ruler. "Tell me at once!"

"Captain of the Guard, and Priest of the Ring, Mahaado, he...he is dead."

Atem, horrified, nearly dropped the thin parchment clutched in his trembling hands. Flashes of his dear friend's kind honey-colored eyes bore into his soul. The young priest, his loyal guardian, who had forever been by his side, even more so than the others, was gone forever. Fighting the pain gnawing in his heart, the pharaoh hissed, "Tell me what happened."

Slowly raising his head, the guard said gravely, "He was found in the temple courtyard just beyond the entrance to his chambers. His throat was slashed and there were many stab wounds across his chest. I regret to inform you, my Lord, that besides this murder, the Millennium Ring has been stolen."

Pharaoh Atem's eyes flashed with rage and horror at the report, and with a wave of his hand, he commanded, "Have every guard search the palace and its surrounding area! Do not rest until the one who has done this is found. And find Advisor Shimon. Have him brought to my chambers immediately!"

"At once, my Lord Pharaoh," and with that the guard rose and fled down the glistening hallway.

As soon as the he was out of sight, and the doors were quietly shut behind him, Atem fell to his knees. Silver tears welled in his sparkling ruby eyes and he nearly crumpled the scroll in his hands. Wiping the tears away and replacing it with hot anger, he gazed again at the writing. Life becomes death...Death becomes reality...and darkness shall rule... 

"What does this mean?" he whispered, choking his words past the lump in his throat.

In a span of only a few hours, what was thought to be an impossible thing in his land happened...twice: two men, an innocent commoner and his closest friend, slain by an unknown offender who was at present testing the might of his defense! His control weakening, Atem wanted to throw himself on the ground and weep in agony at his failure to keep the peace in his kingdom. The reputation he had gained as being the greatest ruler was shattering with each passing second. Yet, it was not for his own sake that he was saddened, but the for livelihood of his people. How would they feel if they knew someone had infiltrated the very house of the Pharaoh, stole a precious and dangerous symbol of power and killed one of his highest-ranking priests? How would they view him? How would they fair? There would be widespread panic throughout the whole of Egypt, word possibly spreading into Syria and Lebanon and Tyre. Such word would bring nothing but trouble and devastation. Suddenly his eyes widened as a revelation formed in his tumbling thoughts. Glancing again at the parchment, his eyes followed down to the last word on the page, a signature, written in a careless fashion, as if the penman was in haste when writing it. It read: _Ras al Khaimah. _Atem wondered what significance this signature meant. _Is it a word used for summoning, some kind of code, a place, a country, or a person's name? _Questions flooded his head faster than the rising Nile waters during a summer storm, things he wished answered as soon as possible. Where was Shimon? The old man's plugging gait should have brought him to his chambers long ago.

Rising to his feet, the Pharaoh swung open the doors and barked at the tight-lipped guards at the entrance, "I thought I ordered for you to bring the advisor here! Are you all good-for-nothing dogs loitering about in my grand halls? Find him at once and bring him to me!"

The guards, startled by the Pharaoh's sudden outburst, scrambled down the white passages, looping around the corner from which came Advisor Shimon, who, shocked at the harshness in the Pharaoh's voice, halted in his step. Surprised, Atem dropped his eyes and was immediately panged with shame at his malicious attitude. Shimon waved the guards away and approached the flustered young lord. Coming to stand beside his shoulder, the advisor whispered sternly, "It is not seemly for Pharaoh to behave as a tyrant."

Atem groaned inwardly and hissed, "Am I not human? Just because the people view me as a god, does not necessarily mean that I am one."

Smiling in amusement, Shimon stepped back and followed the Pharaoh as he retired into his chambers. Trudging across the room, Atem seized the loose scroll that he had thrown onto the couch, and shattered the cool evening with his ranting thoughts.

"This is what the stranger gave to me just before he breathed his last. I was not sure if I should open it or not, but my curiosity conquered my reason. I read the words aloud, words that I fear may have brought harm upon my kingdom, for as soon as I was finished reading, the report of my most trusted guardian's murder fell upon my ears. Shimon, I do not understand all of this. Has a curse been set upon my realm? With these expressions of death and destruction, what am I to think? How am I to fight against something I cannot see? How dare anyone find ill will against me, against my people! I have done nothing to enrage anyone! I have kept the peace; I have enforced the laws and gained the admiration of all the people. For what reason has this terrible thing been set against me? For what am I guilty? What wrong have I committed in my rule to bring this curse upon my home?"

"Please, my lord Pharaoh, do calm yourself," Shimon rushed to the youth's side, as he fell upon the couch and threatened to burst into tears. "There is no need to rile your emotions so. Let me see the parchment."

Atem handed the scroll over with a trembling hand, and the advisor read over its smoothly written words. After a moments pause, he glanced at the young man's anguished face and said softly, "My lord, do not worry over it. The events of today in relation to these words are merely a coincidence. This is probably a trick, a hoax to make you believe that some evil will come, and to cause chaos in the streets as a means of mocking your very face. Do not fear, my lord, for the offender will be found and reprimanded, and this unrest shall pass."

"You may be wrong. There are evils that exist in this world, and oftentimes they appear in the form of tricks and illusions to make us complacent, until they strike without warning and bring destruction. I shall not let that happen in my kingdom!"

"Do calm yourself. If there were any evil about to strike, the power of the Millennium Items would surely sense it long before it's coming. There have been no such predictions. Lady Aishisu, the Priestess of the Tauk and foreteller of events, has sensed no such foreboding occurrences as these words describe. Let it alone, my lord, lest your spirit shall be troubled."

Atem, unconvinced, took back the scroll, and snapped, "I shall view it as I please. If this concerns the well being of my kingdom, I shall address it immediately. Tomorrow I shall go to the Temple, to the High Priest, and ask him for his opinion on this matter. I tell you, this incident cannot be passed over as a mere coincidence."

"As you wish, my lord Pharaoh," and with that, Advisor Shimon took to leave, bowing solemnly as he shut the doors behind him.


	4. Poisoned Incense and Lotus Flowers

A/N:

Sooooo sorry about the huge delay! My brain's been dead and uninspired for so long! I can't write for beans but I love this story and can't help but write in it. Here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.

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**Chapter 3 – Poisoned Incense and Lotus Flowers**

_ Pharaoh Atem raised a hand to block the glare of the sun from blinding his eyes. The desert stretched on to the horizon in all directions, a harsh wind blowing grains of sand into his robes. In the distance, he could see the towering majesty of the city, the golden edifices glistening in the sunlight. Alone amidst the sweltering wasteland, Atem wondered what his purpose in being there was. Suddenly, a shrill cry sounded out from above and echoed across the landscape. Atem raised his eyes and saw the silhouette of a bird of prey, a vulture, hovering in the azure heavens. It flew down to him, screaming with might, flashing its golden wings, its shining jeweled eyes gleaming. It flew to the heights and soared off in the direction of the city, its cry beckoning him to follow. Atem, curious as to where this enchanted bird wished to lead him, trailed after it, faltering slightly in the hot sand dunes, and trying keeping pace with its glorious flight. Soon, he was in the midst of the city, but here the streets were empty, the roadways with not a soul in sight. The only things living were he and the golden vulture hovering over his head. Atem watched as the hunter flew to the very top of a high obelisk in the center of the courtyard, perching upon its height, its talons scraping against the smooth limestone. Captivated by its shimmering golden feathers and ruby jeweled eyes, the Pharaoh's heart leaped at seeing the symbol of his kingdom in such a glorious display. The vulture now did not seem to notice the young ruler's gaze, for as it sat perched upon the tower, it took to preening itself, calmly unbothered by the heat of the day or the rush of the wind._

_ Suddenly, and without warning, a stream of pure darkness erupted from the direction of the east, hastily aiming for the golden bird clinging to the tower. Atem watched in horror as the golden creature was struck, its wings crippled by the force of the blow, its shrill cry piercing his heart. It faltered upon the tower, weakened by the severe wounds, its beautiful wings nearly shattered, the glistening feathers dropping to the ground one by one. Its gemmed eyes looked up sadly, and it cried out mournfully as the pain overtook it, though it still stood proudly. In that instant the ground began to shake violently, the buildings surrounding the courtyard crumbling to the ground. The towers fell, taking the glorious symbol with them, and the whole city was consumed by a gloomy darkness that spilled out from the eastern desert peaks. The bright sun's light was blotted out and the land was filled with shadow. Atem, frozen where he had been standing, tried to decipher his surroundings but nothing could be seen. All was dark, so much so that he could not see his hand before his face. Frightened, Atem tried to escape, but was trapped and could not move. _

_ A form rose from the ground, a glimpse of its shape flashing in what little light remained. The young Pharaoh tried to see what it was, but fear consumed his heart, as from the black pools rose a creature so horrifying that the brave ruler was rendered mute. A terrible cackling sound, like the shrieking laughter of goblins, echoed into the black void. Around its neck shone the glow of the Millennium Ring, its golden tips dripping with blood, the cries of dying souls sounding out from the melting center eye. The laughter grew louder and louder until a pair of soulless eyes erupted from the darkness, flashing forth fiercely. The laugher screamed in his ears as the creature came for him, rushing in to destroy his soul._

Atem awoke from his dream, his body shivering in a cold sweat, chest heaving, eyes wide with fright. Running a hand through his damp hair, he tried to calm his rapid breathing, as he lay alone in his bedchamber. Though the summer night was warm and wet with a rainstorm, a chill rain up his spine at remembering the terrible nightmare. Had it been some vision spawned from the ominous words of the curse, or merely a concoction formed from his own restless thoughts? Nothing seemed able to calm his riled nerves, and there was no likelihood of him returning to that dreadful place of half-death called sleep. His eyes having adjusted to the moonlight, Atem rose from his bed and paced over the wide aperture across the room. Delicate strands of silvery light filtered down through a sky of white-laced clouds, the velvet night sky glistening with stars. The great sweeping arches, towering obelisks and limestone temples glowed with a heavenly radiance, as the young Pharaoh savored the quiet of the night.

The bronzed skin on his well tones arms prickled at a sound coming from the gardens below. His body tensed as he scanned the swaying black palms, their shaking fronds hissing in the night air. In the dim light, he caught the flashing glance of a creature climbing amidst the canopy. A sigh escaped his lips as he recognized the form of a monkey, one of his many exotic pets that roamed throughout the palace, munching on the ripe dates and chirping happily. Atem shook his head in personal embarrassment and walked back into his room.

Lying across the couch, Atem drew his hands across his moist forehead, wiping the beads of sweat that had refused to drip down since his sudden awakening. The dream returned to his thoughts, and he worried that it meant an even greater evil was approaching. What was the dark power controlling the Ring? Would it return in the hands of a terrible being bringing death and destruction? Did the golden vulture slaughtered by the darkness symbolize his demise, the destruction of his kingdom, and a forthcoming reign of evil? And what of Mahaado, his dearest and closest friend, advisor, and priest, what did his death signify and why was he unable to prevent it? What of the strange intruder who had brought him the scroll, and most importantly, who was this Ras Al Khaimah and what threat would he bring upon the land?

Such thoughts plagued his mind and would not depart. He did not wish to wake Shimon and ask for advice. The old man would just tell him to forget about it. With the appearance of this dream, Atem somewhat doubted his advisor's wisdom and decided to find out the truth for himself. When the sun rose, he would go to the Temple of Karnak and seek out High Priest Seto, his wisest and most trusted cleric. Perhaps he would help in deciphering the words of the curse and the meaning of his vision. For the remainder of the night hours, Atem dwelt on these thoughts, and it was not long before the sun rose, and morning light illuminated the golden city of Thebes.

The throne room was a spacious quarter of the palace, taking up almost half of the eastern segment, and glowed radiantly in the light of the morning sun. The high vaulted ceilings were supported by row upon row of columns and pillars, painted the shades of sunset over the Nile: blue, gold and red. Beneath the pillars was a high wall of stone, overlaid with the purest gold, which encircled the entire length of the throne room. The courtroom was filled with the activity of attendants, court officials, priests and entertainers, who lined the polished floors. The beautiful music of zithers, harps and flutes, and the dancers' floating ribbons and scarves, created a festive aura and engulfed the courtroom with vibrant shades of color. Facing the entrance hallway, a length-some corridor that lead from the outer courtyards of the palace into the secluded beauty of the inner chamber, was the throne itself, a tall pointed structure similar in shape to the head of an arrow, its tip festooned with a golden sun disk. On either side of the throne were two enormous painted eyes, the eyes of Horus, extending outward to encompass half of the wall space surrounding the seat, a pair of white and red cobras sprouting from their azure pools and rising upward as guardians of the Pharaoh's throne. They acted as divine witnesses to all that occurred within the court. At the top of a small flight of stone steps, the elevated seat of authority itself was also covered in gold, the arms of the chair carved into the faces of lions. Behind the throne was a towering statue of Horus, lord of the sun, his regal falcon head shrouding the high seat in a golden aura. And there, sitting majestically upon the seat of authority, was Pharaoh Atem.

Adorned in most stately attire, he was clothed in a very fine garment of crisp white linen that covered his youthful form from his shoulders his thigh. A thick cape of rich purple draped across his chest and flooded over the seat to his gold-strapped ankles, partially concealing a collared necklace of gold. Upon his left shoulder was a golden wing that lifted off his body and glimmered in the sunlight that shone in through the grand entranceway. His graceful arms were adorned with bands of gold; his left wrist bearing a wing-like ornament, his fingers decorated with rings, and hanging from his neck upon a rope of coiled leather was the mystical Millennium Puzzle. Around his waist was a belt of pure gold set in ridges to allow freedom of movement, and draping across his loins an azure sash. His handsome face shone like the sun, his ruby eyes framed with thick black eye paint. Dangling from his ears were two plates of gold, each bearing the shape of an ankh. A crown of gold across his forehead bore the sacred Eye of Horus, its majesty extending out as a pair of bejeweled wings through his dark locks, his golden bangs languidly hanging over his painted eyes as he stared coolly at his beaded sandals.

As the morning had come and the hot sun slowly rose above the horizon, Advisor Shimon had called Atem to the courtroom, for there were many things that were in need of the Pharaoh's attention. It appeared that word of the priest Mahaado's murder had spread to some noble households and many were concerned over the safety of their families and belongings. A dozen requests of audience had been sent from those of the upper class in his kingdom that wished to discuss the possibility of lack in security. Also, there had been witnesses questioned, and possibly a few suspects that were to be interrogated. Having hoped such chaos could be prevented; Atem had ordered that no one else be informed of the situation involving Priest Mahaado and the strange murders on the palace grounds. If anyone began spreading rumors, they were to be detained. After such proceedings had been completed, there remained only a few individuals who wished audience with him. One in particular, was delayed.

While everyone awaited the arrival of the visitors, Atem's mind drifted into memory. Having discussed the murder of Mahaado with his officials and guards, Atem reflected upon how much he missed his dear friend. A scene of happy times came into his weary thoughts: the bank of the river Nile, a pair of chariot horses standing in the reeds, feeding upon the rich grasses and papyrus shoots, snorting happily. Nearby, young Atem and Mahaado were wading through the cool water, shaded by a pair of date palms. Intrigued by the lazy aquatic creatures, Atem snatched a fish into his hands and lifted its glistening silver body into the blinding sunlight. Grinning in delight, he laughed at its squirming form before gently returning it to its home, watching it swim amongst its brethren. Mahaado chuckled and he dove into the water, swimming out into the deeper current. Atem followed after him, and together they watched a herd of hippos from the safety of the reeds, laughing as a calf failed a climb onto its mother's back and slid clumsily into the water with a great splash.

After their swim, the two young men returned to the chariot and lay upon the sand, nodding off as they dried their bronze bodies in the warm sun. The silence was wonderful and Atem relished every moment. Out there he could be free to do whatever he wished without fear of losing face, or being considered weak, and as for Mahaado, he was the closest thing to a brother Atem had ever encountered. The young priest understood Atem's wish to be treated like a normal human, instead of being lavished over as a god. Oftentimes Atem would tell his friend things he never felt comfortable sharing with anyone else. They shared and protected secrets and journeyed on adventures no one ever discovered. And whenever Atem caught sight of Mahaado's honey-colored eyes, he felt relieved that there was someone who understood his true self. But now, to the young Pharaoh's horror and sadness, that secure bond had been broken, and was gone forever. His closest friend had been taken from him by some evil that was too cowardly to show itself, hiding behind fugitives and curses. How dare anyone raise a hand against his heart, and threaten to shatter everything else he held dear! Atem growled internally and swore to himself that he would find the killer and avenge Mahaado's death, even if he had to do it all himself.

Sighing angrily, Atem wondered why his task force hadn't been more prompt in progressing the investigation. The Captain of the Guard had informed him that they were searching the entire kingdom, but no one had confessed to the crime and there were few witnesses. It was claimed that there had been a very small number of servants and attendants at the temple grounds at the time Mahaado was struck down, and the injured fugitive had frankly come out of nowhere. Everyone had been busy with daily things and many of the guards had been sent to search for the Pharaoh since he had made himself absent and those in the palace were worried. Again, Atem cursed his reckless behavior and wished that he had let Mahaado join him on that chariot ride. Perhaps if he hadn't been so forceful in insisting on being alone, then his friend would still be alive and with him.

The Pharaoh's thoughts were interrupted as a gong sounded, its low tones echoing across the linen-draped hallways and resonating through the throne room. One of the court attendants, standing proudly by the long scarlet curtains at the entrance, holding erect a piece of parchment, addressed the young Pharaoh formally.

"Oh mighty Pharaoh," began the attendant. "Lord of the city of Thebes, Atem, Ruler of the Nile, Guardian of the Great Treasure. A servant of Lord Himnotep, noble of the Delta region of Memphis, has requested an audience with you, to discuss terms of friendship and continued alliance, in reverence to your grand rule."

The young king's interest peaked at hearing the name of Lord Himotep. In the years of Atem's father, Pharaoh Akunamukanon's rule, a great war broke out between the Egyptians and the black-skinned Ethiopians that swarmed from the south. Many of the Pharaoh's army perished during this time of warfare, and there was a great need for men. It was then that Lord Himnotep, a noble from the Delta region, sent word to Akunamukanon of his throng of elite warriors, and sent his finest soldiers to Thebes. The Pharaoh was very pleased at this and praised Lord Himnotep for his quick thinking and his superb military knowledge. In this way, Lord Himnotep had gained the late Pharaoh's favor, and secured an alliance with the royal family in the years since. Atem recalled, as a boy, visiting the Delta region and being introduced to Lord Himnotep. The resolute expression upon his aged face, presented him as a battle-hardened warrior, who had trained hundreds of Egypt's finest warriors. Yet he recalled a tinge of compassion and ardor as he kneeled before the young Pharaoh and expressed his admiration. It had been many years since he had visited Memphis, and hearing word of Lord Himnotep woke the youth from his darkening thoughts.

Earnestly, Atem raised a hand to the attendant and said, "Bring him before me."

Bowing reverently, the attendant stepped aside from the doorway. The sultry sound of harps and flutes heightened the Pharaoh's curiosity, as a procession approached. Three young dancers came into the light, waving bright scarlet silks in the air, flowing gracefully to the foot of the throne and bowing their jeweled heads to the young Pharaoh. From behind the floating linens, Atem saw the great bodies of five guards, circled around a form concealed from his view. Coming to a standstill in the middle of the throne room; the guards lowered their spears, and placed their hands on their chests. Atem nodded in approval as the servant stepped forward. It was a man dressed in long white robes, decorated with a golden pendant in the shape of a cobra, his shoulder length black hair wafting across his painted eyes. A great smile stretched across his youthful face, as he came before the throne. Atem could make out the strings of beads across his sash, and the intricate detail on his curled slippers. His gentle hands opened, and, gracefully kneeling to the floor, he bowed before the Pharaoh.

"You are the servant of Lord Himnotep?" Atem asked.

The man looked up slightly, a wry smile playing on his lips at the interest in the Pharaoh's voice. "Yes, mighty Pharaoh. I am Tazun, and I have come to you with a special greeting from my master."

Atem leaned forward on his golden throne, anxious to see what the guards were concealing behind their rugged bodies. "What is it that you bring?"

Tazun, bowing again, began, "Oh Pharaoh, my master, Lord Himnotep, sends friendly greetings and long life to you. In light of the king's coming birthday celebration, my master requests forgiveness, for he will be unable to attend, due to a sudden illness that has come upon him. However, as a token of friendship and continued alliance to the royals of this land he sends a gift, and hopes that it shall bring ever more joy to your grand rule."

Atem's breath caught in his throat, as the guards stepped aside from the form they were shielding and he was certain that before him stood the flower of the world. Draped in fine white linen, the face hidden by a veil of silk decorated with sapphire jewels, the form slowly stepped toward the throne, stopping just at the end of the steps, lowering its concealed face to the floor. Atem raised a hand, beckoning for it to come closer. With some encouragement from Tazun, the form gently walked up the steps and came to rest right before the young Pharaoh., the eyes downcast, hidden from view. Atem could not wait any longer, so took the initiative to see this prize for himself. Reaching a hand over, he gently took hold of the silken veil and lifted it away.

He was unable to hold back a gasp of wonder as he saw the face of a young woman, no older than fourteen, and most beautiful to look upon. Her glowing skin was hued the color of oiled cedarwood from the lands of Canaan, her cheeks vibrant with a youthful flush. Framing her beautiful countenance, curving about her jaw line and draping over her delicate shoulders, was a headdress of pure gold. At its peak was the head of the sacred bird Horus, spreading its wings over her long strands of black hair that flowed down her back. Around her delicately supple throat lay a golden necklace, shaped into the form of a falcon with outspread wings, grasping a ruby sun disk in its claws. The sweet scent of perfumed oil engulfed her radiance, and her eyelids were painted a deep shade of emerald green, yet a glimpse into her soul evaded him for she kept her eyes downcast. Atem placed his fingers lightly on her chin and lifted her gaze. His heart fluttered as he viewed the brightness of her eyes, a golden honey, and the sweet treasure from the combs. All worries left him, as he relished in her beautiful appearance, the soft light in her gaze bringing to mind the calm serenity and close bond he had felt with Mahaado. He felt the presence of the priest within her. It was as if he'd returned, in a small way, to reassure the Pharaoh's tortured heart. Atem smiled broadly as he stared into her eyes and lifted his fingers to caress her cheek. Her skin was as soft as the breast of a dove, and she trembled slightly at his touch with the shyness of a newborn lamb. He couldn't seem to take his eyes away, as he allowed himself to slowly drown in her shimmering pools of honey-gold.

As if overwhelmed by his captivated gaze, the girl turned her view downward again, a cloud sorrow blotting out the brightness in her eyes. Concerned, Atem released her and she slinked a few feet away, bowing solemnly. Though his heart was slightly disappointed at her timid nature, he could not have been happier. He turned to the servant and asked, "Who is this girl and where does she come from?"

Tazun bowed respectfully and replied, "This is Lady Hora, from the house of Lord Himnotep, his daughter. She is known throughout the district of Memphis as the 'Lady of the Falcon.' She has been sent as a gift for Lord Pharaoh, in light of the coming new year in which he shall choose a bride. My master wishes that Pharaoh will take her into consideration, and he hopes that the king has been pleased."

Atem's eyes glistened with appreciation. There couldn't have been a better time for such a gift. He stood and said, "Send greetings to your master, Lord Himnotep, of my approval...and my gratitude."

Tazun bowed once more and before leaving said, "Long life to you and good fortune to your kingdom, Pharaoh Atem."

The procession departed, leaving amidst a flurry of silks and the music of harps. Atem, looked down at the lovely girl, sitting modestly upon the golden stairway, her eyes downcast and filled with silvery tears. Troubled thoughts lingered in his mind as to why the girl was so sad, but his excitement over this beautiful gift drowned those feelings completely.

"Do not weep, Lady Hora," Atem whispered sweetly. "You shall be happy here."

Her eyes fluttered upward for a moment, tempted to catch his gaze, but fell once again as she nodded, obeying the word of the Pharaoh. Kindly, the young ruler rose from his throne, and took the girl's smooth hand, a gesture for her to stand. Seeing that her expression bore fatigue, he turned to his servants and said, "I'm sure that Lady Hora is tired from her long journey here. Prepare the finest chamber, and make sure she is treated well." The servants bowed and came to the side of the young girl, who dejectedly exited the throne room. Atem did not take his eyes off her until she was out of sight, and even then stared after her fleeting shadow.


	5. Chapter 5

  
Finally! Chapter 4 is finished! I am such a lazy bum and haven't been in the mood for writing at all, but somehow my brain kicked in and now I'm making progress. Thanks for your patience. Hopefully, I can keep this up and get this story finished. I have so many other ideas it's hard on my brain. Oh well. Enjoy! 

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Chapter 4 – The Temple 

The majestic Temple of Karnak, Ipet-isut, the Most Sacred of Places, stood as the height of man's achievements. Regally constructed near the bank of the river Nile, it complemented the glowing walls of the palace with an even greater splendor, a tribute to the gods. Flanked by a sacred emerald lake of water, the grand sanctuary glimmered with gold from behind a towering wall of bricks. Leading into the complex was a long stretch of highway, a path of smooth stones, each carved to perfection, tracing a path through a lush landscaping of date palms. The entire avenue leading toward the entrance of the temple was lined with a procession of ram-headed sphinxes, each protecting between their paws a figure of the Pharaoh. They served, as guardians of the holy place, threatening that any who dared to defy the lord of the kingdom would perish by the hands of the gods. Past the towering gateway, decorated with the flaming winged sun disk of Ra, was a grand courtyard lined on all sides with cylindrical pillars of white limestone, lavishly decorated with elaborate and colorful paintings of the gods, the Pharaohs and the epic battles fought in times long past. At the end of the courtyard was a series of pylons, huge flat-roofed pyramids that imposed the greatness of the temple. Every inch of the smooth walls depicted a scene from history or a tale of the deities and their powers, the lives of the rulers, and records of the mighty empire. Flanking the pylons, obelisks towered over the complex, sending their thin shadows over the white and crimson tiles lining the court. Upon one tapering peak was written: _"Remember in the times to come, O people, the deeds of the good king. Let darkness not shroud the heart nor evil conquer good, for in the end darkness shall perish and light shall ever shine!"_

The words deeply inscribed upon the grand monument fell into the saddened eyes of Pharaoh Atem. Proceeding across the courtyard among a host of guards, servants and vassals, the young Pharaoh held back tears of sorrowful remembrance, recalling the day that obelisk was erected, the day his father had passed into the next world. He was only a child then, but nothing could persuade him to forget that distressing time. He became Pharaoh that same day, and a heavy load was placed upon his shoulders, that of ruling such a grand kingdom. This, however, was not the time for sad thoughts, not the right moment to be concerned with personal matters. The very kingdom his father had left him, a lush and fertile land filled with happy people, was under threat from an unknown source, and he was determined to discover what it was.

"My lord, is your heart troubled?" asked a soft voice from below.

Atem looked down from his place upon a golden palanquin, to the concerned face of Napthes, the palace scribe, who he had asked to accompany him. He was a man of small stature and of humble heart, dressed in a modest array of linens befitting a servant, decorated only by a necklace of silver carved into the shape of an ibis, the symbol of knowledge. Having been in the service of the royal family for some time, he had gained the friendship and trust of the young Pharaoh. As a keeper of events and recorder of dealings, Napthes held a high position among the other vassals, however he was anything but haughty. Marching beside his king with an astute admiration, he fingered his scrolls of parchment and writing pens as he awaited the Pharaoh's reply.

Atem merely shook his head and answered, "It's nothing."

Napthes bowed humbly and continued walking in silence.

Smiling, Atem acknowledged his wise decision in not bringing Advisor Shimon along with him to the temple. Of course, the young Pharaoh did not in any way disregard the elder's wisdom, nor his way of reassuring him whenever things got out of hand. This time, however, he knew Shimon would be of no help. Concerning the frightful words of the curse, which he clutched in his hands even now, the Advisor had not believed a word of it and passed it off as fancy, deception, a concoction brewed up by the antics of children or crazed drunkards. Earlier, he had assumed that the fugitive found running through the palace and who died in the Pharaoh's arms, was probably acting in a way befitting one who had taken to wine too many times. Atem, however, disagreed completely, having witnessed the fear, sorrow and pain in the man's face as he took his last breath. The whole chaotic investigation concerning Mahaado's death, and the constant barrage of questioning nobles and priests, had all been arranged by Shimon, who viewed it as a benefit to the people if the Pharaoh attended to such matters. Angered by his apparent lack of foresight, Atem refused to have Shimon in his company. The young pharaoh was thankful of Shimon's muted reaction, when the elder was preparing to attend this meeting at the temple. He was not in the mood for an objection. However, he feared that when he returned, he would be doing a lot more homework than usual when the time for his lessons came around.

Returning his attention to the task at hand, Pharaoh Atem and his procession were greeted by a group of servants, who, after bowing their faces, led them into the dark sanctions of the temple. Gracefully stepping down from his golden palanquin, the young Pharaoh was escorted through the immense Hypostyle Hall, a grand assembly area consumed by a forest of massive limestone columns. Swathed with elaborate paintings and praises to the many gods, they glowed beautifully in the dim light filtering down through the linen draped ceiling. Many people of all different races, wealth and backgrounds, had assembled there to pay tribute and give thanks to their divinities. From amongst the crowd, Atem caught sight of a young woman, with her two small children clinging to her, kneeling before a great statue of Osirus, pleading for strength at the loss of her husband. Tears spilled down her cheeks like the floodwaters of the Nile, sending a sharp pain of sorrow through his heart. Slowing his step, the young pharaoh lingered, halting in the center of the grand temple, his soul yearning to turn around and offer some form of comfort to the woman and lift away her burdens.

Atem gasped softly as he heard Napthes' voice behind him say, "My Lord, the High Priest is waiting."

Sadly, he glanced once more at the woman who had by now noticed his presence and lay prostrate on the floor before him, urging her children to be still and show reverence to their king. The weanlings looked up at him with unsure and fearful eyes. Atem smiled at them, which lifted their spirits and their fears. The scribe made way as the young pharaoh turned and continued toward the lengthy corridor. Behind him he could hear the sweet voices of the children saying: "Mother! The Pharaoh, he smiled at me !" and " Did you see? The king looked at us!" and the woman replying: "My children, we are blessed to have such a good king."

Though his heart was pleased that just a mere passing glance could bring back the nearly dead joy in such unfortunate ones, how it pained him to realize that such sufferings were only beginning. Was this one widow's plight just a foregleam of what would come to all of his people because of a mysterious curse? Clutching the scroll in his hand, he fought to crush it, as he followed the group down a dimly lit hallway in the direction of the meeting chamber.

Soon they came to a concealed room, used only for visits from those of high rank, the highest being the Pharaoh. Servants and young priests stopped their duties about the temple halls to pay their respects to their ruler, as the young pharaoh made his way down the corridor and into the lavishly decorated meeting room. Entering through a large doorway, he was ushered into a splendidly furnished room, decorated with golden leopard statues and painted walls depicting many scenes from the holy writings. Lead to a plush chair draped in leopard skins and linens of a deep crimson shade, Atem seated himself and requested one of the attendants to send for High Priest Seto.

Moments later, a large man with skin as black as the onyx stone, entered the chamber and came before the Pharaoh. Though he kneeled, his massive form towered over the young ruler, great muscles bulging on his arms and legs. He wore nothing more than a guard's kilt and carried with him a small dagger, but despite his size, his demeanor was as a young lamb. The man glanced upward, his eyes flashing with a great fire; the spirit of a hardened warrior reflecting in his pitch-black orbs, yet his voice was soft as he spoke to the king.

"My Lord Pharaoh," his voice echoed into the chamber, husky, low and deep, like the low growl of a lion in the grasslands. "I am Adham, servant of the High Priest. I was sent to inform you that he will appear before you shortly."

Nodding, Atem acknowledged that Seto was probably busy with priestly duties and replied, "I shall wait for him. However, I trust he will not be long. I have a matter of great importance to discuss with him."

"Of course, my Lord. I shall inform him at once." Rising to his alarming full height, Adham exited to room as quickly as he had come.

The minutes began to pass, like the dripping grains of sand in an hourglass, as Pharaoh Atem grew more and more impatient. His eyes fell upon the golden scroll case in his hand, the carved vulture head gazing back at him with dark soulless eyes. The room seemed to grow in gloom, darkness engulfing all, 'till nothing remained except he and the cursed thing in his grasp. The young pharaoh's heart trembled with anxious fear as he contemplated the great danger that could befall him and his kingdom should he find nothing to dispel the strange words that had ended so many lives and threatened countless more. A flood of dread grew in his heart, weighing down his very soul, and he felt himself drowning in the golden deathfowl's unearthly gaze, void of any feeling. His fear soon turned to rage at the thought of succumbing to the darkness, and Atem forced his eyes upward, breaking the cold spell of terror that had threatened to engulf him. If he had any glimmer of hope left, it was with the most trusted member of his court, the highest rank in all of Egypt second only to him, the High Priest Seto.

Having been familiar with Seto for most of his life, Atem knew that, although he kept to himself and was known to posses a snide personality, the High Priest was possibly his most loyal servant, vizier and advisor, even more so than Shimon. Their relationship was not as close-bonded as the one he'd shared with Mahaado, despite the fact that the High Priest shared his blood. Still, Atem was willing to put fate in the hands of his most trusted comrade.

Suddenly, his thoughts were broken as a pair of servants entered from the opposite side of the room, kneeled and held the doors open as if ushering in someone of grand stature. His assumption was correct, for into the room strode the High Priest himself, Seto. Clad in linens of white and blue that elongated his already tall form, the imposing cleric tread across the floor with utmost pride, his height usurping even his servant Adham, though his frame was much more slight and sinuous. An azure and gold headdress framed his lengthened face with plates of gold on either side of his high cheekbones, and a snarling hooded viper poised at the brim. His long white cape billowed behind him as he halted before the pharaoh. Atem fought rising to meet him, knowing such action would be indecent, and waited anxiously through the customary bow.

Lifting his face to the Pharaoh, his striking, almost foreign, blue eyes shining in the darkness, Seto spoke, "What troubles you, my Pharaoh?" Though he performed the traditional display of reverence, in his tone there was obvious displeasure in having been torn away from his priestly duties.

Tilting his head forward so that only the High Priest's ears may hear, Atem requested, "If I am to speak of these pressing matters I shall do so in private."

With a wave of his hand, Seto dismissed his consorts, as well as the pharaoh's vassals and escorts, who filed out silently, leaving them alone.

Once all had departed, Atem began to unfold the account. "In normal cases, I would not have called you on such a day as this, however, what I have to discuss may concern the fate of the entire kingdom."

Seto stood before him, cocking an eyebrow, curious as to what the brash, young pharaoh spoke of.

"Yesterday, this scroll was brought into the halls of the palace by an intruder who had broken through the surrounding guard. It was given into my very hands as he was hounded into my path, pale and bleeding and he lay dying before me. The scroll's content was unknown to me until after I had dealt with this disturbing incident and had retired to my private chamber. I shall not read it aloud to you now, for after the text had fled from my mouth, word of the death of Mahaado, Priest of the Ring, fell upon my ears, the sacred item he possessed stolen, and an uprise of instability flooded the palace. In addition, though I have sent men to uncover the murderer, he has eluded my patrol and there has been revealed to me nothing more than a foreign name: Ras Al Khaimah."

As Atem finished speaking and his voice echoed through the vast emptiness, his hands trembled as he held out the cursed scroll. He fought to control his unsteady hands, but Seto had already seen. Reliving the horrid disruption of peace that had befallen him and those in the palace, sent shivers down the pharaoh's spine as he fought to keep his face stern. The fear that had come to him in dreams now threatened to revive itself, and Atem struggled not to give in. This was serious and he did not wish for the High Priest to witness any form of weakness in him.

Seto laughed lightly at his apparent lack of concealing his anxiety. Atem drew a breath through his teeth. This was no time to be laughing, as if his report was but a child's fancy.

Cocking his head to the side, Seto's bright eyes glancing at the pharaoh complacently. "Dear cousin, I do believe you're making this a far-grander deal than intended. I'm sure the village idiot who wrote it as a sheer ruse has long been laughing at your state." Taking the scroll from the king's hand, he studied it, noticing the fine detail and intricate carvings and added, "Well, at least a wealthy idiot." Removing the vulture's head, he slipped the parchment from its metal sleeve, allowing his eyes to scan the handwritten message. Within moments his smile faded as he read the encrypted words. Atem sat at the edge of his seat, gripping the armrests, his gaze locked on Seto's expressionless face, searching for some glimmer of emotion, wondering if he'd gleaned anything from it, some clue as to whether or not the priest had concluded the text as a drunkard's rant or a sorcerer's prophecy.

Anxious, Atem breathed, "Well?"

Seto pursed his lips, ignoring the pharaoh's inquiry, and after several agonizing moments, his reply was simply, "Hmm." He rolled the parchment up slowly and carefully, his eyes never leaving the page until it disappeared behind the seal. "I'd like to keep this for further study. The other priests may be able to use their talents to decipher it's meaning. It remains to be seen whether a unanimous conclusion can be found. In the meantime, I suggest you forget about it for a while. You might end up making yourself ill over something that could turn out to be nothing at all."

Dissatisfied, the young pharaoh sighed demurely to himself before rising. "I see. Then I await your answers. Let me remind you though that time may not be on our side in this matter, Seto. Be sure not to idle about. My heart will not rest until I know for sure what is to befall my kingdom."

"I understand," Seto bowed as Atem began his exit. Glaring upward from beneath the shadow of his azure circlet, the High Priest hissed after the king, "However, I do not see why you fear mere words on parchment, but know this, I am not ignorant as to what this may entail. Just try not to blow things out of proportion…cousin."

Lowering his gaze to the floor, Atem stood fast, hearing the High Priest's cape billow in the stagnant air as he exited the meeting chamber. Clenching his fist slightly, a seething anger boiled within him against Seto for his aggravating comments and ever-painful insults. Meeting privately with such an arrogant man grated on the young Pharaoh's patience. It seemed his cousin could always find a way to cut down the king's dignity without breaking any kind of law or upsetting any of the attendants. This time, like all other times, he hadn't taken the king seriously, but had subtly mocked him. Not wanting his emotions to shame him more, Atem straightened and proudly stepped from the chamber into the audience of servants waiting in the hall. Like a flock of anxious birds, they followed after him as he strode down through the corridor and exited the temple. Hurrying to walk beside him, the scribe, Napthes, insisted that the pharaoh get into his palanquin, else he would suffer the sweltering heat. Atem refused, wanting to walk off his frustration, and shooed away the pestering servants. As he walked, his flurry of vassals keeping pace, he allowed his mind to wander to better things, an image that might sooth his anger. Staring off into the distance, he viewed his palace and was suddenly reminded of the lovely treasure that lay within. The face of Lady Hora formed from the rippling heat and sands, her astounding beauty cooling his flame and calming his senses. Soon he would return to the palace and see her, for in her presence he knew he could forget about his troubles for a little while.

**〰**

Lady Hora quietly stepped down the limestone steps leading to the bathing pools. The Nile glistened languidly in the noon sun, half shaded by the fronds of date palms and papyrus reeds. Tucking a few strands of raven black hair behind her ear, she kneeled to the waters edge and removed her bejeweled sandals. Beside her, another girl very close to her age tended her, placing the footwear upon a strip of linen and assisting her mistress in removing her garments. Solemnly, Hora waded into the cool river, dipping her long hair into its flowing clearness, refreshed. Now waist deep, she halted as shadows played on the water's surface before her. From behind the reeds, a pair of white ibis floated into the pool, taking shelter beneath the shade of the river shrubs. She watched as one lengthened its neck and began preening its mate lovingly, and cooing softly.

Tears came to Hora's amber eyes, moist beads trickling down her smooth copper cheek, as she gazed upon the white water birds and their display of love. Standing nearby on the stairway, the maidservant, whose name was Zomar, became concerned over her lady's tears and wondered if she was well. For the past two nights, her lady had been very silent and sad, sitting for long hours on her terrace, staring at the moon and shedding many quiet tears. Was she not happy to be in the house of the Pharaoh, or had she grown ill? Her trail of thought was suddenly broken by the sound of rustling silks and sandals tapping upon the stone walkways above. As she turned to see who was nearing the bathing pools, her dark eyes grew wide and she fell to her knees. Below, Lady Hora turned at the sound of her maidservant clapping against the stone stairs, her gaze following the steps upward to rest within the pools of ruby stone belonging to the young pharaoh. Atem, having come from the temple and still dressed in his finest, had apparently come looking for her and stumbled upon her bathing. He gazed upon her form with curiosity and awe, as if he were still but a boy. Unsure as to if he was intruding but remaining aware of his authority, the young pharaoh gave a kind, almost apologetic smile. Without a hint of shyness or concern, Lady Hora merely gazed upon him with sadness, fear and contempt boiling behind her honey-colored eyes. The shot of anger pierced Atem's heart, and he fought to catch his pride as she turned and waded out of view.

Confused, the young pharaoh fought to understand why she had looked upon him in such a way. Had he not given her a comfortable place in his house? Why then was she so unhappy? Could this be another piece of evidence leading to the fulfillment of the curse? Or perhaps she was merely homesick? Surely it must be the latter.

_How cruel I've been for ignoring it. In the morning, I shall ease her sadness and relate to her my sojourns to the Delta. Then perhaps if I show her the many wonderful sights of Thebes, her heart may be enlightened._ _When seeing my kingdom, and all its beauty, perhaps then she may open herself to me. Though I have only known her a very short time, I feel in my heart it is right. _

And as the sun set, Atem returned to his quarters eagerly awaiting the morn, yet deep within his heart, he feared it, for as each day passed and the mystery of the curse remained unbroken, a darkness began to grow within his heart, and he feared a dire fate would come upon his beloved kingdom…very soon.

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Next Chapter:

"Golden Desert, Azure Nile"

Pharaoh Atem tries to get to know Lady Hora better, and make her feel more at home in Thebes. Will she open her heart and let him be her friend, or will she remained distant? Will the Priests find the meaning behind the strange curse? And why was Lady Hora crying? Is it rally homesickness or something else? Who really is the Ras Al Khaimah and what will befall the Pharaoh and his Kingdom? To find out, read on!


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